


Ethereal

by Writingfangirlforhire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Anorexia, Eating Disorders, Eating disorder trigger warning, F/F, Fluff, M/M, Pack Love, Slow Burn, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 19:22:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11088279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writingfangirlforhire/pseuds/Writingfangirlforhire
Summary: “I'm alright, I ate already,” Stiles answered quietly, Derek raised an eyebrow at him but shrugged and left to go sit down and read on the couch. Stiles smiled a small victory and took a sip of his water.This is pretty easy.Some day... Somehow... He'd be ethereal.





	1. Beginnings

Stiles frowned at the fries that Scott automatically pushed his way. He kinda stopped and looked at the cardboard container. It was a tradition since before Scott’s werewolfism, they'd get food out and Scott would always give Stiles his fries.  
Scott scooted the fries closer, “What's up man?” Scott asked behind a mouth full of Burger, “You're staring like Derek took his shirt off.”  
“Shut up man,” Stiles shoved Scott, the werewolf falling to the side for the effect of being shoved, “I was just thinking is all.”  
“Uh oh, was it about school? Or Derek,” Scott teased, mouth wide open of food. Stiles rolled his eyes and picked up the fries, he stared out the window.  
He stopped eating the fries after only a few of them. Why was he constantly eating such junk food? He thought about his dad and his dad’s health. The doctor had said that eating bad can lead to heart issues and…. And weight gain.  
You know those epiphany moments that everyone talks about?  
Stiles had one of those, eating like he does, will make him fat.  
Stiles put the fries down.  
That was the beginning of it.  
_______

They were eating pizza this time, at Derek's house. Stiles tried to be as late as possible, knowing that the wolves would probably (hopefully) eat most if not all of the pizza before he got there.  
He missed it kinda, he used to be the first at Derek’s for pizza, he expected that he'd showed up and the house would still smell like pizza sauce and Pepperoni. It made him wish that he hadn't promised himself that he'd eat healthier. He ate a salad in the car instead of being early to Derek’s to get four slices.  
As soon as he stepped into the house he was bombarded with the smell of grease and bread. There was such a dissatisfying feeling from having just ate a salad when he could have been eating something that he loved.  
“Hey man!” Scott called out to him from where he was finishing a pizza from right out of the box. Stiles saluted his friend as a hello. Nobody noticed that he smelled like lettuce and Italian dressing, nobody noticed that he didn't go grab a paper plate, the pizza was all gone anyway. Stiles went to get a cup of pop. As he was pouring the pop he looked at the nutritional facts. 200 calories per serving. Every serving was 8 fluid ounces.  
He looked at the plastic cup he had, with curiosity he searched it to see how many fl.oz. it held. 12 fl.oz.  
He usually would drink 3 or 4 of these cups. So, Stiles calculated it up, he would be consuming 1200 calories in pure liquid….  
He put down the pop with a dazed look. He went to Derek's fridge and got ice water instead.  
He turned to see Derek watching him, eyebrow raised.  
“What's up Sourwolf?” Stiles teased with a smile. Derek rolled his eyes and walked over, coffee mug in hand. Stiles noticed that literally none of the werewolves were paying much attention to him. He sipped his water and fondly watched his group of Lycanthropes as they watched sports. Scott and Jackson were thoroughly invested and were discussing football tactics, Isaac was sitting in one of the armchairs finishing his pizza, eyes glued to the screen, Erica was sitting on the floor in front of the other armchair cursing the ref, and Boyd was reading a book about cupcake baking.  
“Erica's team is losing, Jackson's team is winning and the team that Isaac wanted to watch is on a different channel, but he got sucked into this game,” Derek’s voice said from right beside him. Stiles turned to him, surprised at his sudden, but helpful, explanation.  
“That makes sense,” Stiles nodded, “My dad's team isn't playing today so he decided to go to work.”  
“There's no pizza left, but there's a chicken leg that I saved from my dinner the other night I think there might be some mashed potatoes too,” Derek offered, “You usually are here and get pizza before the others so they didn't save any.”  
“I'm alright, I ate already,” Stiles answered quietly, Derek raised an eyebrow at him but shrugged and left to go sit down and read on the couch. Stiles smiled a small victory and took a sip of his water.  
This is pretty easy.


	2. Not as easy

One thing Stiles noticed was that he felt lighter. The thump of his walk wasn't as heavy. This was after about a month of eating healthy. So he went to the bathroom and his father's scale, out of curiosity. He'd lost five pounds. He was 142 lbs now.  
He felt ecstatic. A high like feeling flooded his senses. He'd lost weight. He'd accomplished something! It felt so good! He wanted to celebrate.  
So texted all the pack to ask after milkshakes. Everyone agreed and they went and got some. Scott was hungry so he got food and a milkshake. As they sat at the table Scot passed his fries to Stiles out of habit. Stiles accepted them with a smile. This was great and Stiles was so happy.   
Everyone in the pack was laughing. Even Derek smiled.  
That night though, when Stiles was getting ready for bed, he noticed the scale sitting there and he felt a desire to go stand on it. To feel that ecstasy again.   
So he did.  
And felt crushed, he had gained back three pounds!   
He checked all his pockets, which were empty, and stepped back on the scale, it still showed that he was three pounds more than earlier. Feeling a rock settle in this gut, Stiles went to his room. He went to his computer and started scrolling through Tumblr. He stared apathetically at the screen as he scrolled through the strange mixture of supernatural lore, grungy aesthetic pictures, and superhero posts on his feed. He happened to see a picture of a boy that looked a bit like him, except that this boy had a big buff boyfriend holding him up effortlessly while they made out. It looked so effortless because the first boy was thin as a twig skinny.   
Stiles found himself wondering how much that boy weighed. Part of him figured it was too little, the other part of him wondered how much more he weighed than that boy. He certainly didn't look like that boy. He still had a bit of baby fat that never got exercised off. Werewolves are a high intensity workout 24/7, but Stiles never lost that baby fat. Stiles went to the tumblr search bar and clicked on it, typing “weight loss” in.  
Soon he was presented with pictures of heavier set girls or boys who lost enough weight to be unrecognizably gorgeously skinny. Girls that Stiles wouldn't have looked twice at turned into supermodels. Boys that would have been made fun of turned into frail skinny boys that girls would fall over, boys too.  
Stiles wondered if he could have that. Be that boy in the picture.   
He kept scrolling seeing diet plans that involved starving and calorie counting, and he promised himself he would never do that. He'd use some of the tips, but he'd never starve himself or eat only tiny amounts of rabbit food for the whole day.  
He'd never get unhealthy about it.  
________

Stiles had only lost back the three pounds he had gained when he started looking for a different plan. He found, out of pure luck, this starter's plan for losing weight the “pro ana” way. It didn't seem too bad to. Start out with 1200 calories, only 10% of that was allowed to be fats and such.   
1200 calories was still a healthy amount, Stiles reasoned.


	3. Stoop

Stiles was jogging for Lacrosse, already out of breath, Scott was easily keeping pace beside him, and beside Scott was Isaac, who wasn't even breathing hard. The two wolves were talking about going for a hunt in the reserve later.  
Stiles just kept thinking about all those people on tumblr, the ones talking about running 7 miles at a time, all the time. He wondered if their ability to run so much had anything to do with how little they weigh. Logically he knew how unhealthy they were, eating low calorie amounts each day and exercising all of it off.  
But it sounded so appealing.  
He straightened his back with renewed vigor and kept running, determined to ignore the burning in his legs. Weight loss started with exercise, and he'd be damned if he didn't make these laps.  
When he got to the end of the lap set, Coach Finstock was giving him a strange look.  
“Decent work today Stilinski, keep that up and you might be a quality bench warmer some day,” he grumbled as Stiles walked by with sore legs and what slightly resembled one of Scott's pre-lycanthropy asthma attacks.  
Stiles took that as a challenge. He'd get good at this, maybe he can't run worth shit now, but after he lost weight he would.  
________

Logically, the first thing Stiles got rid of in his diet was the sweets. His dad had a bit of a sweet tooth and Stiles certainly had his sweet tooth moments, so there was a probably normal amount of sugary junk food in the house. The only candy he kept was a bag of Hershey's Dark chocolate, and semi-sweet chocolate baking chips. He could make the excuse of being concerned about his dad’s diet and his dad wouldn't suspect a thing.  
The next thing was the carbs. He threw away the noodles, the quick meal mac and cheese, most of the rice (he never cooked rice much anyway), and the bread, which was beginning to go stale.  
Next to go was the fatty snack foods, the potato chips, doritos, and frozen pizza rolls and such.  
When he was done he took out the trash to get rid of the evidence of his “bad foods” purge.  
Now that almost all of the tempting foods were out of the house, Stiles was at a bit of a loss for what to do next.  
So he got on tumblr and, amidst all the thinspo pictures that still kinda scared him, he looked for tips. He found some that he could do, as he wasn't yet into the idea of starving himself.  
-Drink lots of water each day.  
-Avoid pops, including diet soda.  
-No carbs.  
-More fruits or veggies than anything else.  
-Servings the size of your fist.  
-Yoga.  
-Exercise.  
-Black coffee and green tea.  
-No food after seven.  
All of those seemed doable, Stiles decided.  
Exercise. That was his focus now, so he got off of the computer and started doing push ups, he got to 15 before just collapsing on the floor and breathing heavily. But he was determined, so he did sit ups next. He managed to do 30 of those before he had to stop and rest a bit. 20 squats were next, followed by 30 jumping jacks. Stiles was sweating now, and he figured he could stop if he was sweating. He started to leave his room to go take a shower when he saw a suggestion at the bottom of the computer screen.   
-Take cold showers.  
Fuck no. Stiles liked his hot showers thank you very much. He wasn’t stooping that low.


	4. Baklava, Derek's Ass, and Say Yes To the Dress

After a few weeks Stiles had definitely dropped some weight, but then his weight plateaued and he couldn’t seem to lose anymore. This made him particularly irritable and easily annoyed with his werewolf friends who could eat anything they wanted and not even get a food baby.  
Scott, of course, noticed Stiles’s mood swing, and, being the good friend he is, asked him about it.  
“Hey man,” Scott stopped Stiles as he was taking off his seatbelt outside of Derek's house, “You doing alright? You seem a bit tense lately.” Stiles stopped, not looking at his friend.  
“I'm fine Scotty,” he said finally, looking at his best friend with his regular smile, “Just a little short tempered I guess, I don't know.” Stiled shrugged, trying to pass it off as nothing. Scott frowned at him, unconvinced.   
“Don't try and lie to a werewolf, Stiles,” Scott said with a deep frown. Stiles sighed.  
“I don't really wanna talk about it Scott,” Stiles stared out the window fixedly, at Derek's house. “Its dumb is all.” Scott let out the tiniest of growls which had Stiles looking at him sharply, “What's your problem man, I just want to keep my privacy on one issue, no need for you to be bitchy about it!” Scott looked like a kicked dog, angry but wary of attacking. He finished unbuckling and opened the door to Stiles’s jeep. He slammed it as he walked away. Stiles watched him stalk to the house with a heavy heart. He waited until Scott was inside.  
“Shit.” He breathed with a deep frown. He furiously rubbed his head, tangling his hair. “You seriously fucked up Stilinski.” He said in a whisper to himself.  
Begrudgingly he unbuckled himself and exited his car. He looked up after a few steps to see Derek staring at him through the window, he looked almost concerned. Stiles just stared down at his feet as he headed towards the house. He could feel the weight of Derek's questioning gaze follow him all the way to the door. He walked in to the house with the eyes of every pack member on him except for Scott. He could almost sense it. He stayed staring at his feet until he had toed off his shoes and was walking to the couch.  
“You guys are staring at me like I just brutally murdered seven Alpha's,” he finally looked up, making a point to stare everyone in the eye except for Derek and Scott, each looked away as if in shame.  
Boyd was the first one to speak up, “Have you ever made baklava?” He asked Stiles. Stiles nodded.  
“Yeah, my mom had made some a long time ago, so I couldn't tell you how to do it, but I certainly remember it,” he answered, “If you count that.” Boyd nodded.  
“I made some today and I don't think it’s quite right,” he said, “I was hoping that you'd know where I went wrong or at least if I went wrong”  
Stiles felt his stomach clench and he swallowed sharply. His mouth was suddenly dry at the prospect of having to eat something so high in sugar. “Umm,” he said softly. Shit. He didn't know what to do. Feeling panicked he blinked rapidly. “Umm I'd rather not.” He whispered. His mind was reeling. Think Stiles. “I don't umm, I haven't eaten it since-” Stiles trailed off, hoping that they would fill in the implication. Boyd's eyes went wide.  
“Oh, uh, sorry man.” Boyd scratched the back of his head. “I'll figure it out.” Stiles just nodded, letting out a shaky sigh of relief. Scott was looking at him now, looking almost like he'd accidentally killed someone.  
“Shit man, that's only a week and a half away,” Scott stood up, “And I was a complete asshole to you. I didn't even think about it only being a week and a half from the anniversary. I'm sorry dude.”  
It was true, Stiles remembered, there was only a week and a half away from the anniversary of his mother’s death. Now he felt like shit, he hadn't even remembered himself. He'd been so self-absorbed with losing weight.   
But he'd take the excuse. “It’s alright Scott,” he said softly, “I just, I’d rather not talk anymore about it if that's alright.” He looked up at everyone and gave them all a half assed smile. Derek looked so solemn and Stiles felt bad. “So let's get the, uh, the night started. What is it tonight? Vampire Diaries, Say Yes to the Dress, or The Walking Dead?  
“Boyd won the draw,” Erica fake pouted. Stiles put on a grin and rubbed his hands together.  
“Yes! I've been wanting to start the new season! Let's see some dresses!” He cheered before walking to the kitchen to get a glass of water. There on the kitchen counter was Boyd's baklava, looking mouth wateringly perfect. Stiles swallowed at seeing it. His fake enthusiasm sucked out of him.  
“There's water for tea,” Derek commented, walking behind Stiles for his own glass of water. Stiles turned to him with a smile, his heart thumping when Derek was still watching him.  
“Thanks,” he smiled, “I've been craving some green tea lately.” Derek watched him for a second, his face unreadable before he simply nodded and turned away.   
“Good then.”   
Stiles wasn't below admitting that he stared at Derek's ass a little. Scott may be wrong about a lot of things, but his jokes about Stiles’s appreciation of Derek's physique was spot on.  
Stiles could appreciate Derek's physique, but he didn't necessarily want that sort of physique himself. He wanted to be that skinny boy that would be weightless to a normal human man, let alone a werewolf.  
He started some green tea for himself while Boyd and Isaac talked about their favorite dresses from SYttD and Jackson got it set up. Stiles appreciated how a completely heterosexual young man like Boyd could appreciate Say Yes to the Dress. But then again, nothing about Boyd was very stereotypical, he liked Say Yes to the Dress and Interior Design shows and Cupcake Wars. And he baked and sewed some. Stiles thought that was great. Stiles wasn't sure what Isaac's sexual orientation was but he suspected it was “Scott”. But Isaac did love Say Yes to the Dress, Project Runway, and Skin Wars. Stiles was starting to think maybe Isaac should go into fashion design. He always is stylish   
But Stiles was most surprised at how into SYttD Derek got. He was always up for an episode and seemed to have the best comments and advice on the dresses. Like, “She should get an A-line lace top instead of a strapless heart line sequined.” And, “I think that would look better with a pastel yellow ribbon instead of the bright one.”   
Stiles lived for these episodes.  
Feeling better, Stiles took his tea and went to find a couch space. He ended up in between Erica and Jackson, curled up with his tea in, admittedly, a rather feminine way. Erica was curled against Boyd, Isaac and Scott took up the love seat, which had Stiles giggling, and Derek was sat in the lone armchair by himself.  
“I can already tell this one will be a Bridezilla,” Jackson grouched not five minutes into the show. “I hope her dress puts her in debt.”  
Isaac shushed him, staring transfixed at the the screen. Stiles shook his head at the two before turning to the screen, just then they showed part of the bride’s party and it was this skeletally skinny young man talking. Stiles felt his breath catch.   
That boy was ethereal.  
Stiles was fat compared to him... Stiles felt sick.  
“Mmmm,” Jackson hummed beside him, “He's pretty cute.”  
Stiles felt like he couldn't breath. He felt someone glance at him but refused to pull his gaze away from the screen. He needed to be that boy. He felt an empty sensation like someone had sucked all emotion out of him.   
If asked later, Stiles couldn't tell you what the rest of the episode was like, he was too busy hating the way he looked. Not even realizing that a particular werewolf had noticed the change in him.


	5. School Lunch

Stiles’s new favorite pastime was looking at “thinspo” on tumblr. He didn’t much care whether it was a boy or girl usually, the ribs, the hipbones, they were the same to him. Something he wanted.  
When he wasn't at school, he was usually at home exercising. He was slowly improving. But time would only tell. He had to be careful anyway to make sure that he was only toning and not building muscle. But soon enough he was looking leaner.  
Allison mentioned it first.  
“Hey Stiles you look good,” she commented as she sat down beside Lydia, “Have you been working out or something?” Stiles smiled up at her from his plate of mostly fruits and some gross school cafeteria veggies.  
“Yeah, thanks. I'm trying to get into better shape,” he admitted, “Coach is being a real bitch. I know I'll never be as good as the werewolf population here, but I can at least be one of the better humans.”  
“You should really eat more protein then,” Allison smiled encouragingly, “It helps build up muscle.”  
“Yeah,” Stiles made a face, “but I'm not sure you can call what they serve here ‘meat’.” This made everyone chuckle and Stiles grinned before starting to eat his fruit.   
Isaac walked up, hitting Stiles on the shoulder as he moved to sit beside Scott. Isaac didn't have any food. “Hey, guess who I saw drooling all over Jackson in the hallway.” Isaac said conspiratorially. Everyone leaned closer, eager for a juicy detail, except for Stiles who was too busy staring at the lack of food in front of Isaac. And yet here he was, eating.  
Isaac went on to gossip about Jackson's string of admirers with Lydia while Stiles got a blank look on his face. Isaac, with his werewolf metabolism, wasn't eating. But Stiles, with his slow, human metabolism, was.  
Stiles stopped eating, pushing the food away in disgust. “Hey, guys,” he stood up, “I'm gonna go to the bathroom.” They all made various noises of confirmation, and Isaac waved him off. He waited until they turned their attention from him to grab his tray discreetly and headed to the bathroom. He dumped his food in the trash and left his tray before leaving the cafeteria.  
In the bathroom he looked at himself in the mirror. He knew he wasn't the most attractive person in the school. Most girls prefered the more… Muscular boys, and all the gay guys were also usually on the more fit end of the spectrum. But there were a few guys that Stiles would see in passing who were really skinny and bony, and they were cute.   
So Stiles figured that he'd get more attractive if he lost more weight. Protein helps you gain muscle. Allison had said. Stiles didn't want to gain muscle though.  
He could do this. He could be strong and avoid protein and he could avoid eating. If Isaac, with his werewolf metabolism, can skip lunch then surely Stiles could too. It can't be that hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it was so short. I'm doing another chapter next, I just wanted to break them up.


	6. Run like breathing

This was hard. His stomach was growling and he felt tired. All he wanted was to eat.  
His father had had late shifts the past few days, and there hadn't been any pack things, so that left Stiles the freedom to try out his new diet for a few days. What did this diet consist of? Not eating, and exercising.  
Stiles hadn't eaten hardly anything for three days. And right now he was craving peanut butter more than anything else. The chocolate chips looked appealing too. Without even thinking about it, Stiles mixed a few tablespoons of pb with chocolate chips. And he feasted.   
He felt so much better afterwards. Happier and fuller. Until he realized just what he'd done and suddenly it seemed so disgusting.  
What a failure.  
He can't even keep himself from eating. If he can't even be good at that, what is he good at? Nothing.  
Stiles felt a bit sick with himself. He had to do something about the amount of pure calories he just ate.   
He decided to go on a run. He put on some shorts and shoes and headed out, even though it was evening and was probably going to get dark soon.  
He started out at a run automatically, with just the pure need of get this shit out of me. He wasn't quite sure where he was going, but Beacon Hills was a small town, it's not like he could get lost here.  
When his legs and lungs started burning too much he decided to slow down to a jog. He still felt a bit sick, but significantly better now that he was fixing his mistake.   
So he ran, alternating between a run and a jog to keep himself from tiring out too quickly. Before long the sun was setting and he was on the other side of town from his house. He started heading back, hoping to get home before it was completely dark. He was breathing hard though, and his legs hurt so much.  
This is what I get for eating what I shouldn't. He thought as he slowed down to a jog to breathe. He was starting to get shaky, and his breaths were shallow. All he wanted was to stop, to slow down, to breathe.  
You can breathe when you have self control. Stiles thought to himself before starting running again. He didn't even notice the car pull up beside him.  
“Hey,” a familiar voice shouted at him, “It’s almost dark out and you're on a run? What do you think you're doing?” Stiles slowed down to a jog and looked to see Derek glaring at him, eyebrows furrowed.   
“Oh hey Derek,” Stiles waved breathlessly. Still jogging.  
“Would you stop for two seconds?” Derek growled. Stiles did, putting his hands on his knees and trying to draw deeper breaths. Derek parked his car and got out, if the way he almost slammed the door close was anything to go by, he wasn't happy. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” Derek almost yelled at him. “Jogging at night? That's possibly the dumbest idea you've had since the first day I met you!”  
“I just needed to…. Burn some energy,” Stiles huffed out breathlessly, trying to convince himself he wasn't lying because technically calories get turned into energy. Hopefully his heart was pounding too hard for Derek to pick out the sorta lie.  
Derek gave him a top class bitch face, “And you couldn’t do pushups at home or something?”  
Stiles rolled his eyes, “I'm not you Derek McBroody-Wolf.” Derek.exhaled sharply a scowl still on his face. He looked around the street.  
“How far did you run? Your house is still 9 blocks away,” Derek commented. Stiles shrugged. Squinting, Derek opened the passenger side door to his car, “C’mon then,” he started walking to the driver side, “I'll drive you home.”  
Stiles shook his head, “I'll just run home man. I probably stink and I don't want to torture you with that. Besides it's not that far.”  
“You don't get how much I can't let you do that,” Derek crossed his arms, glaring at Stiles from over the top of his car. Stiles looked at him, confused.   
“What's wrong with that?” He asked defensively. All of a sudden, riding in a car with Derek was the last thing he wanted to do.  
“There's a rogue werewolf on the loose and I can't seem to find it,” Derek answered, “I don't know its intentions, crossing onto my territory, but if it's hiding from me then they can't be good. I want to keep an eye on the pack to make sure the rogue doesn't target one of them. You're the last one to know, even though Scott said he texted you.”  
Stiles felt for his phone and realized he left it in his jeans when he changed. “Uh, yeah… Um.”  
“Jesus Stiles,” Derek growled, pinching the bridge of his nose, “You don't even have your phone with you?”  
“Um,” was all Stiles could come up with in response. Derek just growled, an actual, audible, wolf growl, and pointed to the car.  
“Get in the car, or I will take your legs off with my claws and ensure that you never run again.”   
Stiles swallowed hard and got in the car. He buckled up silently. After he closed the door Derek was still standing outside the car and Stiles suspected that he was looking into the sky asking the universe why he had to put up with this bullshit.  
Finally Derek got in and put the car in drive. He slowly started driving, heading for Stiles’s house. The tension was thick enough that Stiles could feel the pressure in his stomach.   
“Derek-” Stiles started to say.  
“I mean what the hell is wrong with you!?” Derek interrupted angrily, “You don't even run! Your exercise is usually confined to school and then on the one day that there's a rogue wolf in the area you decide to go for a run when its nearly dark out?!”  
“I didn't even know about the wolf!” Stiles defended himself.  
“And you left your phone home on top of that!” Derek yelled back, “You've pulled some dumb stunts in the time I've known you Stiles, and this is one of the dumbest fucking things you've ever done. Even if there wasn't a rogue wolf, what you think some thug isn't gonna see a skinny defenseless idiot on a jog at night as something fun to beat the shit out of?”  
“I didn't really plan on being out in the dark,” Stiles muttered, staring out the window.  
“And yet, look at that, its dark out,” Derek growled back.  
Both were silent the rest of ride. The tension was thick enough to sit like a weight on Stiles. His discomfort was tangible.  
Derek parked in front of Stiles house and turned to him. “Next time don't do something so stupid.” Derek said seriously. Stiles faced him but didn't look up at him. He nodded, staring fixedly at the cup holders.  
“I hope you find that werewolf,” Stiles said softly, “And thanks for the lift.” Stiles got out of the car and trudged up to the house, feeling Derek's eyes on him the whole way.  
He felt a different kind of sick now.


	7. Mind vs. Matter

Honestly he was surprised when, two months into his weight loss endeavor, Danny was actually the first one to say something about how much Stiles had actually lost.

“You look thinner,” Danny commented absentmindedly, “How much weight have you lost since the beginning of the season?”

“I don't know,” Stiles openly lied, he knew how much he’d lost, quite well actually, but Danny wasn't a werewolf and wouldn't know the difference. Danny just kinda looked him over and nodded.

“Looks like you’ve lost a decent amount, you look good Stilinski,” Danny commented before closing his locker and walking towards the door.

Stiles was glowing. Danny, wouldn't spare him a second glance if it could be helped, just complemented him on his weight.

The next person to notice was also a surprise. Jackson commented on it one day after practice. He had tackled Stiles and he later commented on it. “It was like I tackled a ten year old,” he commented, “did you lose weight?” Stiles gave a huff of a laugh as an answer.

“You know what tackling a ten year old feels like with your current muscle mass and supernatural power?” Danny asked with a chuckle, “Do I need to talk to Sheriff Stilinski about my teammates abusing minors?”

“Shut up man,” Jackson shoved Danny’s arm with a grin. And just like that, Stiles was out of the spotlight. It made him sigh in relief. But secretly he was pleased. Jackson, who doesn't give two shits about him, can tell he lost weight.

It was exciting and terrifying all at once. Because it’s fantastic that people can tell he lost weight, but it's terrifying because what if they start asking how.

Everyday, Stiles would get home from school or practice and he'd habitually, from years of constant snacking, go to the kitchen and look for a snack. Everyday he'd start to reach for something and barely catch himself in time. Everyday he felt the same emotional disappointment from not snacking. He could handle the hunger now. Hunger was easily ignored. Stiles never had an issue with controlling himself when he was hungry, not anymore. But the emotional starvation was difficult. Keeping himself from stuffing his face with chips was emotionally taxing, and he hated that he was so emotionally dependent on food when he's not even that physically dependent on it. 

Some days he failed to catch himself, school was stressful and food is relaxing, an old habit. Some days the food made it to his mouth. Not 10 minutes after snacking, Stiles is always exercising. Some days he goes on a run (fuck you Derek) and other days he does cardio videos. After he's exhausted his body he sucks down 20 fl.oz. of water and takes a hot shower to distract himself from the emotional craving to eat anything. 

Anything at all. 

It’s just an emotional craving though, so he doesn't actually need to eat.

______

 

It takes nine weeks from when he started losing weight for Scott to finally say something.

“Hey dude, you want my fries,” Scott asked, sitting beside him at lunch, “They're flimsy and you know I like my fries crunchy.” Stiles looked up at Scott from the book he was reading. He opened his mouth to reply but Scott kept talking, “Besides man, you like, never eat anymore and you look like you could use some fries.”

Stiles was immediately on the defensive, “What do you mean by that?” He asked with furrowed eyebrows, Scott just shrugged, watching Isaac start towards the table with a tray in hand.

_ Isaac is eating, _ Stiles’s brain supplied,  _ so go ahead and eat the fries. It’s not like you aren't just gonna run it out anyway.  _

“Ya know,” Stiles suddenly said, “Isaac's been lookin kinda cute lately.” This got Scott's attention, now it looked like Scott had gone on the defensive.

“Yeah, he has,” Scott says barely loud enough for Stiles to hear, there's a question in his tone.

“You ever gonna ask him out?” Stiles asked, nonchalantly returning to his book now that he's gotten the attention off of him. Scott watched Isaac weave through the crowd of students.

“Dude, do you think he'd say yes?” Scott asked just before Isaac got within ear shot.

“Definitely,” Stiles smiled, pleased that the distraction had worked and happy for his lovesick friend.

“Whatcha looking at Scott?” Isaac asked, “Do I have something on my shirt?”

“No!” Scott flushed, “it’s just uh….” Scott broke off and Stiles rolled his eyes. 

“Hey Isaac, those pants look hot on you,” he spoke up, Scott whirled to face him, “But ya wanna know what would make those pants hotter?” Stiles didn’t look at Scott, but he’d bet money that Scott was panicking.

Isaac made a face in confusion, “No, what?” he took the bait.

“If they were on Scotty's floor,” Stiles turned back to his book to let the chaos ensue. 

“Stiles,” Scotty exclaimed in shock. Isaac was choking on air.

Stiles just smirked, that would keep both of them off his back when it came to eating for at least as long as they are in the honeymoon stage.

 


	8. Derek

Life was going amazing. Scott and Isaac had started dating, Allison and Lydia were doing some heavy flirting, Jackson was in love with Danny, and Stiles was still forever alone but at least he was losing weight right? Derek still hadn't found the werewolf though; he was thinking that it had probably moved on, so he had relaxed some.

But then the day came where they decided to eat out. Stiles had been doing well, on a good day he didn't eat at all, on a bad day he ate supper with his dad and fruit for lunch. But Stiles couldn't imagine a worse situation than going out with the pack for supper. And Derek chose a Burger joint. 

Stiles studied the menu, trying to break down the amount of calories. Dear god. Why didn't this menu have the calories on there? Everything seemed so high in fat.

“Hey Stiles, you remember that time we got southwestern burgers here?” Scott asked. Stiles remembered. He remembered how delicious they were, but it was like he could only remember it through a filter. All he could think of was the fat, the grease running down the sides of the bun, the shine of fat on the onion rings, the oil of the barbeque sauce. Pure calories.

So why did that sounds so fucking amazing right now.

He had to choose something healthier.

“Yeah, those were good,” Stiles managed to say nonchalantly, “but I think I’m gonna be a bit more adventurous today.” He quickly looked for something healthier, “I’m gonna have the, ah, Breakfast burger.”

A quarter pound hamburger patty, about 300 calories; a fried egg, 90 calories; chedder cheese, 100 calories; lettuce, 10 calories; tomato, 10 calories; onion, 10 calories; Fries 350 calories; Bun, 200 calories. 

1070 calories. 1100 calories if he allowed for calorie differences.

In one meal.

It was too much, he had to find a way out of this. He looked at his phone desperately, feeling a sort of panic rise in him. 

“You okay dude?” Isaac asked from Scott’s other side, “You smell like panic and anxiety.”

“No,” Stiles said truthfully, his mind scrambled for a reason why he should be panicking, but all he could come up with was school work and that wouldn’t work as an excuse. He settled for just telling the truth, “I have to go.” Stiles stood up, still looking at his phone, anxiety making his movements twitchy.

“Did something happen?” Scott asked in concern, he started to stand, “I’ll come with you.”

“No,” Stiles said quickly, waving Scott off, “It’s nothing, I just have to leave. Sorry, I’ll be fine.” Stiles quickly headed for the door, hoping that none of the wolves would try to follow him.

“Are you sure?” Scott called.

“Yeah,” Stiles stopped at the door, looking back at the pack, “Enjoy supper, I’ll talk to you guys tomorrow.” Stiles tried not to take in the expressions of disappointment mixed with concern. The only expression he actually focused on was Derek’s. Derek was staring at him, eyebrows furrowed and contemplation in his clear grey eyes.

It terrified Stiles.

With a last wave he was out the door into the fresh air, relief finally calming his nerves. Along with some excitement. He did it. He avoided the food. 

He got in his jeep and headed home. 

He avoided food, but he still felt sick. Just the possibility that he might have had to eat that many calories made him sick.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

_________________

125.2 lbs the scale read.

Stiles had lost 22 pounds.

He smiled at the scale, but couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed at still being in the 20s range. But, he was finally under the “healthy” weight range for his height. He was a 5’10 mass of bones and sarcasm. 

He ran his hands over his hipbones, they were sharp, like he wanted them, but the fat around his legs was annoying him, and his ribs weren’t nearly as defined as he wanted them to be. He looked at his face in the mirror, his cheekbones were defined, and his skin was still a light color despite all the outdoor practice for lacrosse. 

Stiles finished getting ready for bed and headed to his room. 

He’d just shut his bedroom door when he turned around to find Derek standing with his arms crossed.

“What’d it read?” Derek asked, his tone was cross. His entire posture screamed  _ pissed off _ .

“What?” Stiles croaked out.

“The scale.” Derek’s eyes flashed dangerously, “What did the scale read?” Derek enunciated his words more. 

“I don’t-”

“Don’t bullshit me Stiles, what did it say you weigh?” Derek snapped, interrupting him. Stiles pushed back into the door as Derek took quick strides up to him.

“125.2,” Stiles squeaked out in surprise when Derek grabbed him by the shirt.

Derek swore and hit him upside the head. “What the hell is wrong with you!?” Derek yelled, then he pushed away from Stiles and pinched the bridge of his nose, “What the fuck are you doing Stiles?”

“I don’t underst-” 

“Bullshit,” Derek interrupted, crossing his arms angrily again. “Tell me the truth.”

“You hurt my head,” Stiles rubbed where Derek had hit him, “And why are you yelling at me? It’s not a big deal Sourwolf.”

“Stop that,” Derek said shortly, “Stop deflecting and answer the goddamn question Stiles. Why are you doing this? Why?”

“For myself,” Stiles snapped out, “I just…. I just want it.”

“You want to be an unhealthy pile of bones that has a panic attack at the mere thought of having a  _ normal fucking meal _ ?” Derek asked sharply.

“I want to be thin! I want to be  _ ethereal _ , like all the boys and girls in the pictures! I want to feel my ribs and be able to wrap my hands around my thighs, what’s so wrong about that?” Stiles asked, now angry, “I’m 18 years old, Derek, let me live my life!”

“Let you destroy your life you mean? Let you starve yourself until you waste away into nothing?” Derek yelled, “You’re an anorexic skeleton Stiles! I can count your ribs without effort! All your clothes hangs off of you! And don’t you dare think that nobody has noticed or doesn’t care. I had to physically restrain Scott from coming after you himself! You’re scaring him and he doesn’t understand why you’re doing this. I don’t either for that matter.”

“Because I don’t want to be fat!” Stiles screamed at him, “I want to be skinny! Everybody cares about skinny people! I could be flawless! I could be ethereal and feel good about myself and have whatever I want and be liked by everyone I want and never ever get fat. What’s the matter with that!?”

Derek didn’t respond, he closed his eyes and frowned. Then he took a few steps towards Stiles, Stiles took a step back, but Derek pulled him into a rough hug.

“Stiles,” Derek mumbled, “We all care about you. You’re pack.” Stiles almost froze up under Derek’s embrace, just from shock. He then noticed something… Derek was so warm. Incredibly warm.

Something flipped in Stiles brain and suddenly he felt a tear slide down his face. He took a shaky breath in as his vision got blurry with tears. “I'm so sorry,” he choked out, his throat tightening as the tears fell faster. Derek hugged him tighter, sticking his face in Stiles’s neck.

They just stood like that for a few minutes until Stiles stopped shedding tears. Finally Stiles pushed out of Derek’s embrace. Derek let him push out of the hug, but held him by the arms. Stiles didn’t look at him, looking over at his dresser while taking in deep shaky breaths. “So… um, everyone knows?” Stiles asked, sniffing and staring stubbornly at anything but Derek.

“Everyone knows something’s up,” Derek said softly, “Scott knows that you aren’t eating. Isaac knows that you’re habitually avoiding school food at least, he said that he thinks that you’re trying out a new diet but don’t want to be made fun of. Allison and Lydia both think that you’re trying to get fit, but that you’re misguided about it. Erica says that you’re stressed lately and you’ve been eating funny, and Boyd hasn’t been paying that much attention. The only person who’s come out and said the word anorexic was Jackson.” Stiles took a deep breath in, staring fixedly at his feet, “So as far as I know, the only people who believe  that what you’re doing to yourself is anorexia are myself, Jackson, and maybe Scott. More likely than not, Scott’s just noticed that you aren’t eating and is concerned, but I doubt he’s put a diagnosis to it.”

Stiles finally looked up, he nodded and swallowed, “I don’t want him to know that it’s actually anorexia,” he spoke in a sure tone, “If he thinks that I’ve just stopped eating, then he won’t question it if I just start eating again.”

“We should tell the pack that way you can get better with everyone’s support,” Derek said in a gentle but stern voice.

“No! Please Derek, they already think I’m weak-”

“Nobody thinks that-”

“Liar,” Stiles challenged, “I’m human. Of course you guys think that.”

Derek stayed silent.

“Please don’t tell the whole pack,” Stiles pleaded after a few seconds. His mind was racing for a way to get around this. “I promise I’ll start eating as long as you don’t tell the whole pack.” What consists of eating is subjective, Derek may think of eating as a whole meal three times a day, but eating could also mean eating one meal a day.

He could work with that. He was so close to a perfect weight….

“Please Derek,” Stiles said softly, stepping closer to the werewolf. Derek studied his eyes, squinting as if he could see all hidden meanings. Obviously Stiles wasn’t lying, but there was definitely something else. Derek finally nodded.

“I won’t tell the whole pack, or Scott,” Derek allowed, Stiles smiled shakily he started to thank Derek, but he interrupted him, “But I will tell Jackson.” Stiles froze. “I need someone to keep an eye on you at school,” Derek explained quickly, obviously smelling the rising anxiety, “The only reason that Jackson knew about what you’re doing to yourself being anorexia is because he’s gone through it himself, Stiles.” Stiles relaxed a little bit and reveled in this new information about Jackson. That’s why the guy has self esteem problems. Why he hides behind a big ego.

That means that Jackson, hopefully, won’t force Stiles into anything. And if he does Stiles can tell him off without anybody wondering what’s up.

“Okay,” Stiles said softly, “I’ll agree to that. But only Jackson, no one else.”

“Agreed,” Derek finally smiled, “Thank you Stiles.” Stiles nodded and started to turn away, but Derek pulled him back into a rough, warm hug. Stiles closed his eyes into the hug and prayed mentally that this would pass quickly. 

“We do care about you Stiles,” Derek said quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I finally updated! Sorry for the wait, but here's two chapters just for you!


	9. Rogue Wolves and Honesty

 

Stiles was running, he was running as fast as he could. The exercise was easier now, he could run for longer, do jumping jacks for longer, he could do push ups better. It was all better. The only problem was that Derek and Jackson were being scrupulous in watching him the past month. Jackson made him eat at lunch, openly giving him food with the trap of social obligation to make sure he ate it. Jackson also made sure Stiles had a snack right before they left school. 

With all the food he was consuming, Stiles had to fight it with exercise. So he was running. It was dark and the only light on the school running track was the school security lights. Was it dangerous? Yes. But he needed to exercise.

So he ran until he was pouring sweat and couldn't breathe. Derek couldn't stop him from exercising. He could force food on him, but he couldn't stop him from exercising. Stiles couldn't breathe, but he kept running, shallow huffs pushing through his lungs. 

His foot caught on something and he fell headlong on the rough running track. His hands took a lot of the damage but his knees also ended up injured and his face stung. He laid on the pavement trying to draw breath. He hurt all over and he couldn't breathe….

Slowly he rolled over and laid on his back, eyes closed. God he was exhausted all of a sudden. His limbs felt like they were made of liquid, and his heart hurt from pounding. He opened his eyes to see a stranger grinning down at him evilly, eyes glowing yellow.

“Hey kid,” the stranger sneered, “You look like you need some help up.” 

_ Shit. The rogue werewolf from a while back. Shit shit shit. _

“Nah I'm good,” Stiles said breathlessly, struggling to get up quickly, “Thanks for the offer though sir.” The werewolf grabbed his arm anyway. 

“It wasn't an offer you could refuse,” the dude sneered into Stiles’s ear, “A tiny morsel like you wouldn't be more than a appetizer.”

“I don't really taste good,” Stiles insisted uncomfortably as the werewolf smelled him. He felt panic rise in him with each breath in. Apparently the werewolf could tell, he grinned with a red riding hood wolf smile.

“I've got you all excited have I?” he hissed into Stiles ear with hot air. Stiles squirmed panickedly. 

“I wouldn't call it excited,” Stiles pulled in vain against the 20 something man's grasp, “What do you even want with me? Let me go.”

“You're the one that separates himself from the pack,” the wolf explained, whispering into Stiles’s ear, “the weak link. The loose end. I'd like to eat you,” the wolf cocked his head with contemplation, “or even turn you and make you mine, you are a sweet morsel. But I need you for other reasons.” A smile spread across the werewolf's face, “So I'm afraid I can't let go of you just yet Stiles Stilinski.”

With that Stiles shoved his body into the werewolf's and screamed, as loud and as high pitches as he could. Running without Derek knowing be damned, he needed help. The werewolf jerked back in surprise and horror at the unearthly scream in his ear. Stiles struck out his fist and punched him in the throat before aiming for the eyes. The werewolf had just jerked back to look at him when Stiles aimed for the eyes, so he caught Stiles’s fingers right in the eyes. He howled, releasing Stiles in shock and pain. Stiles took off running for the nearest of the pack member's house, Isaac's. He ran as fast as he could, adrenaline running through his veins like blood. He could hear the wolf behind him and he new there was no way that he'd make it to Isaac’s house. Feet pounding against the ground, Stiles didn't dare look back. He couldn't do anything but run, knowing that if he did anything else it would slow him down. 

He got off of school property and onto the road heading for Isaac's house just when the werewolf caught up to him, grabbing at Stiles jacket. His claws tore right through the jacket, getting Stiles arm. It had jerked Stiles back a little bit, but the wolf hadn't gotten enough to stop him. Stiles kept running blindly. When he ran full on into someone running the opposite direction, he was knocked to the ground, what little breath he had in him was knocked out of him.

“Stiles!” Isaac's voice reached over the rushing in Stiles’s ear, “I heard the scream! Are you okay? The rest of the pack is coming!” Stiles felt a claw yank him backwards.

“Get back!” The wolf yelled, Stiles felt five sharp stabs on either side of his Adam’s apple. “Killing him would be no harder than flexing my hand.” 

“If you kill him,” Scott's voice came from behind. “You'll never stop suffering from what I'll do to you.”

“I've got basically nothing to lose, and in my opinion, with the way this kid acts, he doesn't think you guys do either,” the werewolf turned so both Isaac and Scott were visible. Stiles felt exhaustion seeping into him, making his legs feel like lead.

“If you've got nothing to lose then why why are you doing this in the first place?” Isaac challenged. The werewolf closed his claws just a tiny bit into Stiles neck, puncturing his skin in a few places, Stiles flinched in pain.

“Because I do have something to gain, and I need your pack to do it, and no matter what Stiles may think, y'all  _ do _ have something to lose with his death.”

“Attacking my pack won't make me help you,” Derek's voice came from behind. The werewolf whirled around, piercing Stiles throat more as he basically picked him up to turn. Stiles grunted as he felt blood start to trickle down his neck. The entire rest of the werewolves of the pack were standing behind Derek. “I don't barter with psychopaths.” Derek crossed his arms.

“I think you  _ will _ help me,” the wolf pulled Stiles back against his chest more, “You care enough about this boy to help me.”

Stiles was thinking as fast as he could. The placement of the wolf’s claws was meticulous. If he dug down just the slightest bit more, he'd hit a major artery. Stiles would be dead by the time the fight ended. He pushed back even more into the werewolf, trying to escape the sharp claws in his neck.

Stiles made eye contact with Derek and swallowed. “I'm sorry,” he whispered. Derek's eyes flashed and he just nodded once, he didn't let his eyes linger on Stiles for long. Stiles felt something well up in him, his throat felt constricted. 

The werewolf smelled him and looked down at him. “I don't want to kill you Mr. Stilinski. I want your pack's help, I don't want you dead, but if they don't help then I might have to kill you just a little bit.”

Stiles looked at him best he could, “I'm sorry, you're wasting your time,” Stiles told him. The wolf frowned. Stiles jerked his head backwards, bashing his head into the wolf's nose. It howled, his claws started to constrict but Stiles moved back just enough that it didn't go deeper into his throat. Stiles dropped down away from the wolf's claw and rolled. He felt someone leap over him and when he rolled onto his feet he saw Isaac locked into a fight with the rogue werewolf. He felt someone pick him up and he felt hands at his throat. Fighting the urge to shrug them off, Stiles turned to see who it was.

Derek was holding him, Scott was the one pressing lightly at his throat, “Stiles, your throat’s been cut,” Scott said worriedly, “You just keep bleeding.”

“Get him to the hospital,” Jackson said from behind Derek, Stiles looked over Derek’s shoulder to see Jackson and Erica, poised to fight, “We’ve got the rogue.” Stiles blinked and felt just how purely exhausted he was. He felt Derek pick him up all the way into a bridal style.

“Hold on tight Stiles,” Derek commanded, Stiles tried to pick up his arm, he got his hand up onto Derek’s chest before he couldn’t lift it anymore. Scott moved the hand around to the back  of Derek’s neck. Stiles felt his head lolling to the side before he could even realize what was happening. He could hear Derek’s heartbeat, it was fast and loud, but he couldn’t understand anything Derek was saying to him.

The bouncing feeling was annoying, it made Stiles’s head pound. Or at least it felt like it made his head was pound. That could be the blood leaking out of him.

Slowly he slipped out of consciousness.

___________________

 

Waking up was a struggle. And Stiles fought to open his eyes. The bright light made him squeeze them shut again. His arm felt funny, and wherever he was smelled weird, and what was with that beeping? 

Finally he opened his eyes again to see the achingly familiar walls of the hospital. “Fuck,” he groaned roughly.

“Stiles!” Stiles felt a hand on his face and turned to see his dad, worry lines etched into his face like carved marble. He blinked at his dad groggily. 

“Why’m I here?” He mumbled, seemingly unable to talk louder or clearer. His dad looked so relieved. He ruffled his son's hair with a relieved smile.

“Your throat got cut by a werewolf,” his dad explained, “not too deep but they say you lost a lot of blood.” Stiles tried to touch his throat, but found and IV line feeding blood and a clear liquid into his arm. “You scared the hell out of me kid.”

“‘M sorry,” he mumbled blinking heavily.

“Scott couldn't tell me what you were doing,” his dad, ever the sheriff, was searching for why his son was attacked, “Said he heard your scream from across town. Why were you at the school?”

“I lost something,” the lie came out fluidly, “on the running track, and I was looking for it.” Stiles was slowly waking up more. The sheriff gave him a look. A Dad look. A Sheriff look.

He didn't believe him.

“Melissa says you're underweight Stiles,” his dad finally spoke. The pain in his voice was tangible. Stiles forced himself to look his father in the eyes. He pulled a look that he hoped said ‘I am???’

“How?” He asked.

“She says that you're over 20lbs underweight.” His dad continued, sounding scared. “People don't just  _ get _ that underweight Stiles. I’m a Sheriff damnit, I've seen enough cases to know that teenage boys your size don't lose twenty pounds. Not by accident.”

Stiles let himself look away this time. He couldn't bare to look. 

“Sheriff,” Derek Hale appeared in the doorway, “Isaac would like to give you his statement. He's requested you personally.” John looked from his son to Derek and back again. 

“We aren't done,” his father kissed his forehead, “I love you Stiles.”

Stiles watched anxiously as his father left. Derek sat down in the seat his father had just gotten out of.

“How do you feel?” Derek asked in a quiet voice. Stiles didn’t look at Derek. He stared fixedly out the door at the hallway. He swallowed hard, which hurt. “There was no getting around him finding out Stiles,” Derek acted like he needed to defend himself. Stiles turned his face towards Derek, but closed his eyes.

“I know,” he whispered. “I just wish….. I just wish that he didn’t look at me like that when he said it.”

“Like he’s scared for you?” Derek asked gently, “Like I am?” Stiles opened his eyes, Derek looked more emotional than Stiles had ever seen him. He looked sad and scared and…. And something that Stiles couldn’t identify. He bit his lip, tears threatening to spill.

“I don’t want him to be scared,” Stiles managed to say through his choking emotions. Derek moved the edge of his seat, his head cocked to the side as he listened. Stiles looked up to the ceiling in desperation. “I don’t want him to think that I’m broken. To be scared for me every time I’m at home alone. I don’t…. I don’t want that for him. For any of you.” Stiled finally looked over at Derek. Derek looked like he was trying not to cry. Stiles didn't know why he'd cry.

“Do you want to get better Stiles?” Derek’s huge warm hand enveloped Stiles skeletal cold one. He leaned forward hopefully. Stiles swallowed again, grimacing afterwards from the pain. He looked down at his and Derek's hands. His fingers were just bones compared to Derek's strong hands. But yet, a part of Stiles rejoiced at how skinny his hands were. 

He didn't want to eat. He didn't want to go back to constantly stuffing food in his face till he gets fat someday.

“You don't have to eat till you get fat Stiles,” Derek lightly squeezed Stiles’s hand. Stiles realized he'd said that out loud. “You just have to eat until you get back to a healthy diet and weight.” 

That still sounded horrible.

_ But I'm not perfect yet. I cant give up now. _

_ But I don't want to hurt dad. I don't want to hurt Derek. And the pack… _

_ But perfection? _

_ How perfect can it be if I hurt everyone around me to get there? _

“Stiles?” Derek pulled Stiles out of his thoughts “I'm not going to force you to do something. I don't know about your dad, but I won't force you into anything. Jackson described what it was like for him in middle school, so I know that forcing you to do something you don't want to isn't going to work. But if you do want to get better, I want to help you and be there for you.”

“Why?” Stiles looked Derek in the eye. Derek stood, still holding Stiles’s hand. He looked sad. 

“You don't know?”


	10. Dates

Stiles grimaced as he stabbed the noodle with his fork. He glanced up at Derek and faked a smile. It was their second date and it was two weeks after Stiles was released from the hospital. Derek smiled back encouragingly.

“You're doing so good, thank you for trying,” Derek encouraged

Stiles swallowed his overly chewed noodle at the same time that he was swallowing his heart that was in his throat. But at the same time he looked back up at Derek to see the pleased and encouraging smile. He couldn't help but smile.

Eating wasn't hard. No. Stiles could eat all day probably. He'd feel sick afterwards, and he'd want to die, but he could eat. It was harder to learn how to not eat than it was to begin eating again. But he hated every moment of it.

He hated the feeling of food in his stomach. He hated the calories clogging up his body. They were unwelcome.

Stiles put down his fork. Eating big portions was still hard, he had managed half of his plate. He didn't look at Derek as he stared at the plate. He'd eaten his veggies, and a few noodles. He couldn't force himself to eat anymore. He knew. It would lead to something worse than starving.

“Hey,” Derek's voice was soft, barely audible over the din of the restaurant. “Just two more bites? Maybe some chicken?”

Stiles looked into Derek's eyes and picked back up his fork. Derek smiled encouragingly. Stiles slowly, mechanically, stabbed a piece of chicken.

It almost made it to his mouth before he put it down, “I can't,” he told Derek, “I'm sorry. I can't.”

Derek's frown made Stiles feel like shit. 

_ Probably because you never reached your goal. He wouldn't be disappointed in you if you were skinny. _

“That's okay,” Derek finally said, “You've eaten a lot anyway. Good job.”

_ Yeah you've eaten a lot. Too much. And yet look how much is in your plate. You can't even get fat properly. _

“Sorry,” Stiles wiped his mouth.

“It's okay Stiles,” Derek reached across the table and squeezed Stiles’s wrist, his hand looked huge in comparison to Stiles’s. “I'll get the check and we can go for a walk.” Stiles smiled up at Derek.

After Derek paid for their meal, he led Stiles out of the restaurant. He'd driven them to a bigger city for an actually high end restaurant. Stiles felt bad that he didn't eat that much of his food. But Derek didn't seem bothered. They walked around the city as the sun started to set, looking through shop windows. Derek led Stiles around with a hand on the back.

After an hour, they got some coffee (a little bit of cream for Derek and just black for Stiles) and walked back to Derek's car. Derek opened the door for Stiles which made Stiles blush. They hadn't talked much during the walk. Just passing comments here and there. But now that Stiles didn't feel as full, he grinned at Derek in the car, going for light hearted.

“This has been fun Derek.” Stiles put his hand on Derek's arm, part of him marvelled at how big Derek's arm, all muscly and shit. “Thank you.”

Derek smiled back at him, “I had a good time. Thanks for allowing me to take you out.” Stiles light hearted smile turned to something a bit softer. 

“My pleasure,” he said softly, looking into Derek's eyes. Derek darted forward and kissed the side of his cheek before turning back and starting the car. Stiles turned to the window, his cheek burning a little bit where Derek kissed him. 

The radio was on a local station as Derek started driving them back to Beacon Hills. A Fall Out Boy song played for a few minutes. The two of them rode in comfortable silence for that time. When the song changed Stiles didn't pay much attention to it as he watched the scenery. 

But then he heard something unexpected.

“ _ C’mon skinny love just last the year, _ ” Derek was singing softly, Stiles turned to watch him, “ _ Pour a little salt we were never here. My my my, my my my, my my my my. Staring at the sink of blood and crushed venire.” _

Stiles didn't even know that Derek could sing. Derek didn't look at him as he kept driving.

“ _ Told my love to wreck it all, cut out all the ropes and let me fall. My my my, my my my, my my my my,”  _ Derek broke off and looked over at Stiles for a second. Stiles smiled at him and Derek reached over for his hand.

“I didn't know you sang,” Stiles said aimlessly. Derek squeezed his hand.

“I don't usually,” was his answer, “Only for the people I really love.”

Stiles swallowed hard and closed his eyes. It was a bit much for him. He didn't end up replying.

When he woke up they were in Beacon Hills.

Derek had pulled up in front of his house and smiled over at him. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” Stiles stretched a bit in his seat, “How long did I sleep?”

“Only 20 minutes,” Derek answered amusedly, “I can never fall asleep that fast.”

“Well I keep strange hours,” Stiles jokes while unbuckling his seatbelt. “This is significantly more comfortable than the floor under my desk.” Derek rolled his eyes, unbuckling his own seat belt. 

“I would tell you to try to regulate your sleep schedule but I don't think you would actually listen.” 

Stiles grinned, “Definitely not.”

Derek just shook his head and got out of the car. Stiles followed and Derek walked him up the short walk to his house. Stiles stood awkwardly at the front door for a moment.

“Thanks for dinner Derek,” lies lies lies, “I had a great time, and the walk afterwards was nice.” Mostly true, “So thanks.”

“Thank  _ you _ ,” Derek's smile made Stiles want to throw up from how honest and genuine and  _ adoring _ it was. Stiles swallowed hard and turned away hoping to clear the knot in his throat. “Wait, what's wrong?” Derek grabbed his arm and Stiles paused, not looking at him. “What did I do?”

“ _ I don't deserve this _ .” Stiles whispered, pressing his eyes as tight as they could be. Derek's grip on his arm softened and he took a few steps closer. He turned Stiles towards him

“Look at me,” he commanded gently, Stiles forced his eyes open, swallowing his tears and gritting his jaw. Derek pulled him closer, leaning down to look Stiles in the eye. “You don't deserve to  _ believe _ that you don't deserve this. You deserve to be loved Stiles.”

“Not by you,” Stiles said desperately, “you're too…. Too good.” Stiles felt his heart in his throat as he tried to pull away from the werewolf, “Let me go.”

Derek let him go but moved in his way to get to the door, “What can I do to convince you that you’re more than  _ I _ deserve?”

“If you’d wanted me to think I deserve you, you should have let me starve myself,” Stiles hissed, hitting Derek to get him to move. Derek froze, eyebrows furrowing. 

“What?” he asked, dazed.

“I said,” Stiles was getting desperate, “You. Should. Have. Let. Me. _ Starve _ .” Every word matched Stiles’ desperate shoves to get Derek to move. Derek’s flash of anger was palpable. 

“Stop that,” Derek said gruffly. Stiles felt his emotions twist.  _ Relief, sadness, pain, panic, ohgoddidimakehimhateme, ohgoodivemadehimleavemealone, ohgodpleaseno. _ Derek grabbed him by the shoulders, his gentle touch didn't match his gruff expression. Neither did his broken whisper when he said, “Please, stop trying to get me to leave you. You're only hurting yourself.” 

Standing still, Stiles looked into Derek's eyes. He felt the swell of the part of him untainted, the part of him that really wanted good things. He felt his heart pitter patter as Derek's warm hands held him.

“I'm sorry,” Derek said softly, “But I will always love you Stiles, nothing you could say to me, nothing you could do to yourself, could make me love you less. I just want to help you.”

“I'm sorry,” Stiles whispered back, tears welling up. “I'm sorry that I can't be perfect for you.”

“You have always been perfect for me,” Derek kissed Stiles gently, “no matter what you think.” 

Stiles felt tears roll down his cheek and he felt something inside him break.

Derek kissed him then. Slow and careful, giving Stiles the space and ability to move away. He didn’t though, he pressed in tightly. Derek’s kiss wasn’t some magical thing that fixed all of his problems. But it was warm and loving and it made Stiles yearn for more. Derek’s arms enveloped his body as they kissed on Stiles’s front step.

When they finally pulled apart enough that Stiles could look Derek in the eye, he felt happy and smiled. Derek smiled back. “I love you Stiles, I’ll talk to you later okay?”

“Okay,” Stiles kissed Derek again. “Okay.” Derek chuckled and pulled away after one last kiss.

“Night Stiles.”

“Good night.”

Derek left but not without kissing Stiles on the cheek. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that I haven't updated in half a fucking year. *begs on hands and knees for forgiveness* I hit major writers block, and then I had a bunch of college work and was always out with my friends when I wasn't working on homework, and then I got majorly depressed, and all in all I forgot about my stories. But I'm back now and I'll try to work on it some more!


	11. Fighting Demons Together

****

One year later.

Stiles was running. This time for his life, but he felt the exhilaration of continuing to run even when his entire body burned. The back of his mind, the only part of him that wasn't going “ _ Oh shit oh shit oh shit _ ” was cheering him on to keep running. He hadn't been able to exercise this much outside of lacrosse since that werewolf attack. 

He heard the screech of something behind him but didn't turn back to see what it was. His legs and heart pumped hard as he sprinted through the woods. Getting bit by branches hitting his face as he tore through them, Stiles was past the painful point. His body felt numb from the strain. He hasn’t ran this hard for this long in months.

He felt something yank him back by his hoodie and swung his baseball bat without pause. It cracked over the skeletal head of what was chasing him and the creature let him go in surprise. He dropped to the ground and kept running.  _ Where’s Derek? _ Stiles had time to think as he whirled around a small curve in the overgrown path he was taking.

A flash of recognition lit in the back of his mind. The face of the creature which had grabbed him… It was like a rotten elk face, but he knows for a fact that the thing had the body of a man… the blood… the bones…

_ A wendigo! _ Stiles realized as he ran. If it was a wendigo…. Then all of his movement, his running, the only good it was doing was in the wendigo’s favor, since the wendigo sees movement.

He dove into the woods just off the path, under a bush, and painfully took a deep breath and held it. It burned, holding his breath, he slowly released a bit, but it still hurt like hell as he slowly took a breath in. He felt like sobbing, he choked. He needed deeper breaths, but he had to hold still. He sucked in one last breath and held himself still, even closing his eyes so he wouldn’t blink. He heard the creature drop to the ground beside him and he tried not to flinch. The ragged, bone rattling breathing of the creature was right above Stiles and he dared not move. His lungs burned as he felt the creature’s breath move the leaves above him. 

A roar ripped through the woods and Stiles ALMOST took a breath in from relief. He could feel his head pounding now, his lungs hurt so bad. He heard the wendigo roar back from right above him and he dared opened his eyes through the darkness of the night and the leaves he was able to see the creature transforming back into the elk thing. 

_ Oh right, _ Stiles thought dazedly, _ wendigos are shapeshifters…. _ The wendigo jumped onto a tree and away from Stiles. Stiles sucked in a breath after a few seconds. His head swam from the lack of oxygen and exhaustion was sitting in.

But then he heard the growls and roars of a fight and rolled clumsily out from under the bush, trying to detangle his hair and clothes from the branches. He couldn’t quite think straight and his equilibrium was off, so he was swaying even while on hands and knees. Finally he pulled out of the bush and stumbled to his feet.

Following the noise, he stumbled through the forest.  _ Wendigos aren’t killed easy. _ He nauseously remembered. His heart and lungs hurt, and the feeling of needing to throw up grew with each step, but he willed his exhausted body towards the sound. Thankfully his eyes were accustomed to the dark and he soon saw the fight going on between Derek, Ericka, and the wendigo. Derek and Ericka lunged at the wendigo in turns to damage it, but they didn’t seem to be winning. 

_ Wendigos….. Wendigo…  _ Stiles thought as he nearly collapsed against a tree.  _ Wendigo’s are killed by being stabbed with Silver, no good…. Beheaded with silver or beheaded in general? I don’t remember….  _ **_Fire._ **

Stiles wildly felt around his pockets. He had a lighter on him somewhere, a good one. “C’mon c’mon…” Stiles’s hands were shaking so bad he couldn’t get his hand in his pockets. 

Finally he pulled out a zippo lighter. “Fire,” Stiles mumbled, focusing on the ground he found a dead branch with a large group of tightly clustered dry leaves. He shakily opened the lighter. He heard a roar of pain behind him and looked to see that the Wendigo had gotten on top of Derek and bit him, Ericka tackled the beast off and Stiles shakily tried to light the zippo. His hands were too shaky….. Finally he got a small flame and he held it under the leaves. 

The leaves slowly started to curl and twist, embers started to glow on the ridges. But no fire yet. Stiles blew as gently as he could on the leaves to get the fire to catch. Finally a flame grew on a couple of leaves, Stiles reached for another dead branch in a panic to try and get the flame to grow. He held the two branches together and watched with hope as the flame grew. 

Magically, the fire grew to a decent size and Stiles whirled around towards the fight. 

“Hey asshole!” Stiles shouted, waving his arms violently. Derek and Ericka and the wendigo all turn to him, Derek and Ericka in shock. “Hey Bastard! Come at me!” Stiles took a challenging threat closer, hiding the fire behind the tree in front of him.

The wendigo fell for it, leaping towards him. Just when it got to him, Stiles stabbed forward with the branch. The long arms of the creature reached Stiles before the branched reached it. Stiles sucked in a labored breath as the creature, nothing but bones and sinew and skin, tore through his hoodie with its claws drawing blood from his ribs. But before the creature could strike again, the fire from the branches caught the fur of the wendigo’s rotting elk head. The fur, brittle and dead, went up instantly and fire started to spread. Stiles felt pain and relief as he took and stabbed a wooden stick into the wendigo’s ribs as hard as he could. The creature screamed. Louder and more terrifying and bone chilling than anything Stiles had ever heard that didn’t come from Lydia. 

Stiles jerked away as the creature lurched forward, aiming for him. When he moved, the beast ran into a tree instead. It now seemed as if the body of the wendigo had turned to embers.

Stiles fell on his ass and scrambled backwards. He felt hands pull him closer and instinctively knew it was Derek.

“Are you okay?” Derek worried, his hands at Stiles’ cheek. 

“I’m fine,” Stiles’s voice cracked with his lie as he watched the wendigo flail in flames. The monster was completely ablaze now and Stiles was feeling woozy. “I’mmm totallllyy fine….” he slurred, eyes not leaving the wendigo even through blurry vision. 

“Stiles you have to breath,” Derek’s hands were on his chest and neck now, “Come on, take a breath.” It sounded like he was speaking through water.  _ What does he mean? I am….. Breathi… _

All went black.

____________

When Stiles awoke all he could see was fire. All over the room. He screamed until he felt a hand on his face and someone coming into his line of sight. A slap knocked him out of it and when he opened his eyes he could see his bedroom ceiling. 

“Hey its me, its okay,” Derek’s voice spoke to him. Stiles looked over at Derek lying next to him and he calmed down instantly. 

“Hey,” Stiles breathed out shakily, but in relief. “Hey hot stuff.” Derek rolled his eyes and pulled Stiles closer, being gentle with his shoulder. 

“You passed out from not breathing,” Derek whispered into his hair. “You probably don’t remember waking up afterwards, but you just kept running your hands over your ribs and rambling facts about wendigos. Deaton wrapped your shoulder and gave you some medicine for your pain and to help you sleep and then sent us home.” Stiles rolled onto his side, his bad shoulder up. Gently he laid his head on Derek’s chest. He could feel Derek’s question, whether or not the werewolf currently had the question in mind, Stiles was anticipating it.

“I’m sorry I was out and about Der,” Stiles apologized, squeezing his eyes shut as he pushed his nose against Derek’s chest. Derek kissed the top of his head slowly, waiting for Stiles to explain himself. “I was out on a run.”

“And the cigarettes?” Derek asked patiently. Stiles swallowed hard.

“They calm me down,” Stiles said, it was… half the truth.

“You’ve been back for a week, why didn’t I smell them before?” Derek asked Stiles looked up at him.

“I don’t smoke very often,” he said slowly, “And I haven’t in over a week.”

“Why do you do it at all then?” Derek asked, brows furrowed. Stiles swallowed. He couldn’t tell Derek the truth. But he couldn’t lie.  _ “Deception has a particularly acrid scent.” _ Peter had said to him a long time ago. 

Stiles looked away from Derek. He held his tongue. He knew it would frustrate Derek but not as much as the truth would hurt him. Shakily he got out of bed instead, climbing down to the foot of the bed. He was in boxers and his shoulder was wrapped in white gauze.

Stiles heard Derek's sigh as the werewolf started shifting on the bed. Stiles just ignored him best he could.

“You know that I will love you no matter what,” Derek crawled over and kissed the back of Stiles’ head. “I just want you to be safe okay? So if you're doing this and it's to harm yourself on purpose, of course I'd want you to stop. But I'm going to love you no matter what. I'm just happy you're home with me.” Stiles turned to Derek with a sad smile and leaned in to kiss him. 

“I'm sorry I can't be perfect, and I'm sorry that I can't tell you everything.”

“I wouldn't ask you to. That’s not what I’m here for, I’m here to support and love, and protect you,” Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles, “It would be a little easier if I didn’t have to protect you  from yourself as well, but you don’t answer to me.”

“You’re too good for me.”

“Nah, you put up with me being grumpy and dickish, its the least I could do really,” Derek teased, kissing Stiles’s neck again. Stiles chuckled, his spirits lifted just a bit.

He’d tell Derek eventually. After the worst of it was over and Stiles was feeling a bit more like himself. Derek knew this too. Stiles always ended up telling him the truth at some time. Whether it was the truth about how eating has been going. Whether it was the truth about how alone he felt at college sometimes. Or even whether it was the truth about why he smokes sometimes. Derek could count on Stiles telling him when he was ready.

He would always be there for Stiles, even when things didn’t make sense and when he found diet pills, or laxatives, or cigarettes, or whatever it was that time. Derek was there for it all.

Because even though Stiles wasn’t better yet, even though Stiles may never be “better”, Derek loved him.

And in the mornings when Derek coaxed a still sleepy Stiles to eat, and apple, a banana, egg whites, a handful of grapes,  _ anything _ ,  Derek looked at Stiles rolling his eyes and opting for black coffee or green tea, and a tiny bit of whatever Derek was offering, and Derek couldn’t imagine someone being as beautiful or as ethereal as Stiles would always be to him. No matter what weight. 

Derek would always be concerned about Stiles, but that didn’t mean he loved him any less. 

Stiles would always be fighting his demons. But now he has someone to help him on his good and bad and worst days. Someone to come home to… someone to call home. 

They got married before Stiles’s junior year of college.

And they fought demons for the rest of their lives, and loved each other through it all.

 

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end guys! Not every story about anorexia ends with recovery okay? But please try and be safe okay? If you feel like Stiles in this, and like me, and are struggling with your body and with an eating disorder, please remember that you aren't alone, and that it doesn't have to be a forever thing. Please consider recovery, even if you aren't at your goal weight, and consider telling someone you trust okay?! If you need any help, feel free to message me on tumblr @ https://thepositivitytreatment.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing this because I suffer from anorexia. I am in no way trying to glorify anorexia, quite the opposite actually. Maybe if this little fic can help somebody understand what it's like without making them want this then I'll feel successful.


End file.
